


i'm in love, i'm in love (and i don't care who knows it)

by hermionesmydawg



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Caught in the Act, Elf the movie references, Hand Jobs, Holidays, Humor, Lingerie, M/M, Men are idiots, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Resolved Sexual Tension, Semi-Public Sex, Soft Stucky Week, Story within a Story, Unintentional Love Confessions, Wakanda - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 10:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8975233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermionesmydawg/pseuds/hermionesmydawg
Summary: It's not like the two of them planned to get caught in the bathroom at King T'Challa's New Year’s Eve celebration, dressed to the nines with their cocks out, a mess between the two of them, and one very vibrant red fluffy thong on display for all to see."Listen," Steve says. "I can explain."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! Lots of notes.
> 
> 1.) There are quite a few references to the movie Elf (2003) dir Jon Favreau. If you haven't seen it you won't miss anything important to the story, you just might question my sense of humor.
> 
> 2.) This was written for Soft Stucky Week 2016 on tumblr, because everybody needs a break from the angst sometimes. I hope it's soft enough.
> 
> and  
> D.) Wakandan (Xhosa) translations:  
> Hayi - No  
> Eish - slang, a way to express disbelief  
> Uxolo andivanga - Excuse me (pardon me)

"Hayi!" A panicked voice exclaims.  
  
Steve pushes Bucky away, turning shamefully to the door of the public restroom. It's Zuri, _shit_ , and he's flabbergasted. Horrified. Possibly close to having a stroke.  
  
Next T'Challa runs in, then groans. "Eish."  
  
And because that's just not enough people to be a fucking party, Sam is right behind him. "Oh my God, what the fuck?"  
  
Bucky covers his face with his hand, then immediately regrets the action. Steve grimaces.  
  
It's not like the two of them _planned_ to get caught in the bathroom at King T'Challa's New Year’s Eve celebration, dressed to the nines with their cocks out, a mess between the two of them, and one very vibrant red fluffy thong on display for all to see.  
  
"Listen," Steve says. "I can explain."

 

* * *

  
  
See, Bucky loved movies. Comedies especially.  
  
After coming out of cryostasis and while going through rather intense therapy, Steve thought movies would be a good chance for the two of them to have some stress-free downtime. Not to mention, there were a shit-ton of movies that they'd both missed over the years. Then it got to where it was a Thing they did, and then a Thing for the house to do together. Nobody really liked to dwell on being an outlaw, and movies were a great distraction.  
  
Maybe Steve should note another distraction - Bucky's comfort level with Steve. The snuggle factor increased with every passing week. By the time the Christmas season rolled around, Bucky watched his movies practically in Steve's lap. And...it wasn't really a problem.

 

* * *

  
  
"Steve," Bucky hisses.  
  
"What?" Steve snaps. He's trying to tell a story here.  
  
Bucky glowers at his tone. "Your dick is still out."  
  
The three men listening at the door mumble their agreement.  
  
As if Steve isn't blushing enough already. He tucks himself back in and clears his throat. "Uxolo andivanga."

 

* * *

  
  
The holidays weren't really a big deal in their shared Wakandan safe house. Christmas just wasn’t celebrated on the same scale in Wakanda as in the United States. Wanda was Jewish but non-practicing, Clint and Scott missed their kids, and Bucky and Steve still considered oranges to be a fantastic Christmas present. Sam was the lone festive asshole in the bunch.  
  
"House rule," he said on December 1st. "Only holiday movies this month."  
  
Everyone but Bucky groaned because, well, _movies_ . Movies were awesome.  
  
_Elf_ was first up on the docket, simply because when Sam asked what movie they should watch, Scott said, "Not Elf."  
  
It was fine, good, a feel-good movie, but Bucky loved it. Watched it every day after that and made Steve watch it with him, curled tight into his right side because it was like he was made to fit there. And so he went along with it, even though his personal tolerance threshold for Will Farrell had been met after day five.  
  
He thought at some point the obsession would taper off, but no. Even on days when they watched other movies - Steve liked _It's a Wonderful Life_ , shut up Sam, it’s a classic - Bucky still had to watch _Elf_ . Finally Steve just came out and asked, "What is it about this movie?"  
  
Bucky shrugged, rested his chin on Steve's pectoral. "It makes me believe, for just for a little bit, that Santa could be real."  
  
Steve narrowed his eyes. "Santa isn't real, Buck."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
The look Bucky gave him said it all. Steve'd fought an army from another planet. Partied with a demigod. Wanda has magic shit that comes out of her fingers and Bucky and Steve were literally frozen and brought back to life. Steve murmured, "You're right, I don't," and kissed the top of Bucky's head.  
  
Then froze. He didn't know what compelled him to do that but shit, too late to take it back now. It had felt like the comfortable, natural thing to do. They loved each other anyway, always have, and it's not like every little thing has to be gay. Guys definitely kiss their guy friends. Maybe.  
  
"You missed," Bucky said, and smiled.  
  
Okay, Bucky had definitely watched this damn movie too much. And also, that - _that_ might have been a little gay.

 

* * *

  
  
"Sam, what are you doing?"  
  
Sam's unzipping his pants and walking to a urinal. It should have been obvious. "This is honestly a longer story than I expected and I have to piss."  
  
"Good plan." Zuri follows him to the marble thrones.  
  
T'Challa shrugs and joins them, but not before winking at Steve. "Do not be jealous, my friend."  
  
"I have supersoldier serum," Steve bites back.  
  
"Yeah," Bucky says, then adds almost like an afterthought, "I should really wash my hands."

 

* * *

  
  
No presents. It was another house rule, created by Clint, because honestly, they wanted to be fair but they all had their favorites in the house. And none of them were Scott.  
  
So what did Steve do? He got Bucky and Sam presents. Because favorites.  
  
The Sam exchange was easy. "Hey man, I got you something. Nothing big, just. Thought you might like it."  
  
Bluetooth headphones, just like the ones he'd had at home. Sam hugged him, accused him of always breaking the rules, and they were done. Easy peasy.  
  
For some reason with Bucky, it turned into a secretive closed door affair. And Steve wasn't the only one with a gift.  
  
They both sat on Bucky's bed with their boxes. When Bucky pulled out the cashmere blanket, Steve couldn't tell if he was excited or worried. "You, you seem like you get cold easily? If you don't like it -"  
  
"You kidding?" Bucky rubbed the cashmere against his cheek, fingered that tassels that hung from the edges. He was always very tactile, even more so now that his senses were enhanced. "I love it but it's too nice. My gift..."  
  
"For that special someone?" Steve read the card aloud. Bucky visibly cringed until Steve opened the box and began laughing hysterically. He pulled the negligée, a red feather-trimmed velvet teddy with matching thong, out of the box. And couldn't stop laughing. _Fucking Elf, again_ .  
  
"Get it?" Bucky asked with a grin.  
  
"Of course I get it, I've only seen this movie twenty-four, no, twenty-five times."  
  
Bucky nodded. "It makes you laugh every time, so..."  
  
Steve's laugh faded into a sigh. Did it? Maybe. "Well, red is really more your color," he said, throwing the lingerie into Bucky's lap.  
  
"Ya think?" Bucky toyed with the feathers.  
  
Then he realized what he'd said. He was, honest to God, the most insensitive jerkface on the planet. Red was now Steve's color, the color of his face. "Oh my God, no, I am not calling you a communist! I just meant, you wear red a lot. But not blood...red. Not. That."  
  
What the fuck was wrong with him?  
  
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bucky squinted in disbelief.  
  
Steve groaned. "I'm an idiot?"  
  
"Well, that much is obvious." Bucky held the teddy up to his chest, poking his pectorals out as he admired himself. "I think red _is_ my color."  
  
The blood drained from Steve's face. He was so confused, and maybe a little aroused. Then Bucky rubbed the thong against his cheek, and chin, laughing a little when the feathers tickled his nose.  
  
Okay, Steve was in a code red super gay situation and also more than a little aroused. He was actually getting a little dizzy. Lots of thoughts were circling in his head, most of which involved him wearing that underwear while Bucky nuzzled his mouth up against it. "I gotta..." he stammered, jumping to his feet. "Merry Christmas."  
  
And, miraculously, he remembered to open the door instead of just barreling through it.

 

* * *

  
  
Bucky holds his hand up to Steve's chest. "No offense, because I love you, pal. But I am pretty sure these guys just wanted an explanation of why we were jerking each other off in the bathroom of a swanky New Year’s party."  
  
"I'm fairly certain I did not even ask for that," T'Challa says.  
  
"And if I may point this out," Sam adds, "no one is actually surprised you two are jerking off together. The only real shocker is the location and that thong."  
  
Zuri sighs. "If we are being honest, I do not actually care about any of this."  
  
"Then why are you here?" Steve asks, annoyed. He adjusts his pants awkwardly.  
  
"Security cameras caught _you_ ," T'Challa points to Steve, "shoving Barnes against a wall and then _you_ ," T'Challa shifts his finger to Bucky, "dragging him away. And then you disappeared."  
  
"And my therapy isn't complete, got it." Bucky waves his hand flippantly.  
  
Steve smiles apologetically. "It's all very innocent, I promise."  
  
"Yeah, if you go by his overly sappy version of the story, maybe," Bucky balks. "But this story is anything but innocent."

 

* * *

  
  
Steve Rogers was so goddamn oblivious that it physically hurt Bucky. And given his extremely high threshold for pain, that was saying a lot.  
  
"Saaaaam," Bucky whined. "What am I gonna do about your friend?"  
  
Sam slid a glass of orange juice across the counter to Bucky. "Oh, now he's _my_ friend?"  
  
"When he's being an idiot, yes, he's yours. I'll claim him again after he gets his head out of his ass."  
  
"We're not gonna talk about anything in either of your asses, okay? You and I aren't quite at that level yet." Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "Honestly though, I don't know how he hasn't picked up on any of these signs."  
  
"Because he's _Steve_ ," Bucky grunted. "He thinks he sees things that aren't there and misses everything right in front of him."  
  
"You," Sam said.  
  
"I have literally been trying to get in that man's tights since the 40s. I asked him if he was keeping his USO costume, for fuck's sake. And trust me, that's probably the most heterosexual thing I've done in relation to him in the last seventy years."  
  
Sam tilted his head in contemplation. "Have you considered the possibility that maybe he's just...not into you? Like that, I mean. Obviously he has a love for you that borders on self-destructive, but it - it could be platonic. Possibly."  
  
That could have been a possibility if Bucky didn't know the things he did. Steve's blushing and cute smiling at the floor when they made eye contact for more than two seconds. The completely obvious boner when they were joking around with the lingerie. That Steve's resting heart rate was thirty-five beats per minute and rose to forty-five when Bucky rested his head on his chest. Sixty when he laid his palm against his stomach. It's not like Bucky was an obsessive freak who purposely counted - it wasn't his fault he had enhanced hearing.  
  
"No." Bucky shook his head. "Not possible."  
  
"Okay then," Sam said with a shrug. "You're just gonna have to be bolder. Like maybe, ya know, using actual words to express feelings and such. I hear that works from time to time."  
  
Sam was an asshole. But a smart asshole.  
  
So Bucky decided to be bold. Somehow the reject crew of superheroes got invited to the King's private New Year’s party and that's when he knew he had to do it. Bucky enlisted Wanda's help, picking out a sharp navy blue suit with matching tie and a solid white shirt. She trimmed his beard and smoothed his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. One thing she didn't help with was his choice of underwear - the red velvet thong. It was soft and definitely too tight and Bucky was going to die from blue balls if this still didn't work to get through Steve's thick skull.  
  
Even if he did die that night, the look on Steve's face when he emerged from his bedroom made the effort worthwhile. He looked like a damn cartoon character with his eyes in the hallway while his feet were still planted in the kitchen. Bucky nodded to Steve's suit. "You look good," he said, like he was calm as fuck and smooth as hell.  
  
Please. He was dying. Death by erection asphyxiation.  
  
"You," Steve cleared his throat, "too."  
  
In hindsight, Bucky probably should have mentioned his choice of underwear then, when they could have just skipped the party and banged on the couch or bed or in their own bathroom. Instead, they all went to the party, and ate and drank and mingled before Bucky slid up to Steve and handed him a flute of champagne. They watched Sam dancing with Shuri, T'Challa's sister, for a minute before Bucky casually said, "I'm wearing the fluffy red thong."  
  
Steve sputtered, champagne dribbling from his mouth. "You what?"  
  
_Okay, Barnes, just fucking_ \- he turned to Steve, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Wanna see it?"  
  
And, to Steve's credit, he calmly placed the champagne flute on a table before manhandling Bucky through the crowd and shoving him against a back wall. "What are you doing?"  
  
Bucky grinned, not fighting the pressure from Steve's hands on his bicep and waist. "Steve. Come on, _Steve_ . You know exactly what I'm doing, you're just too stubborn to fucking admit it."  
  
"Okay." Steve blinked his eyes, shaking his head as if that would make it suddenly make sense. "But why?"  
  
"Because you're an idiot." Bucky strained against Steve's hold just enough to brush their hips together. "It's not the 40s anymore. There's enough of me still in this messed up head to remember us, things I felt and wanted. And I'm tired of waiting for you to realize you want that, too."  
  
Steve just stared at him, like he was replaying history in his head. Bucky hoped he was skipping the bad parts, and came to the conclusion that he probably had when he felt a not-so-gentle brush of a hard-on against his hip. Steve licked his lips. "I wanna see it."  
  
"Yeah you do," Bucky said excitedly. He grabbed Steve's wrist and pushed off the wall, dragging him around the ballroom until he found a bathroom. A closet would've been better but yeah, whatever, there was at least some privacy here and he needed to get his hand/mouth/etc. on Steve as soon as possible.  
  
Or at least, that was the plan until they got behind closed doors and Steve went all Captain America on his ass. He pushed Bucky into an open stall and pressed their cocks together, _holy fuck_ , and Bucky's brain nearly short-circuited. But the door, the fucking door wouldn't close behind them. "Why won't the door close?" Steve whined.  
  
"Because we're fucking huge, Steve, how do you still forget that?"  
  
Steve grabbed Bucky's tie and yanked him out of the stall. Bucky led him backwards until his butt hit a marble countertop, sort of tucked away from the view of the door. "This works," Bucky said, hopping up on it.  
  
"That's a diaper changing table."  
  
"Ugh!" Bucky jumped off immediately. Life just...it never goes his way, honestly.  
  
"Bucky, just..." Steve sighed, and then he was kissing him, legitimately kissing him with hands on his face, tongue, teeth biting his lower lip. 1942. That was the last time Bucky had kissed anyone, and it sure as hell wasn't anything like this.  
  
"Jesus," Bucky sighed. When the fuck did Steve learn how to kiss?  
  
"No, Steve," that jerk corrected playfully. "I should have done that a long time ago."  
  
"No fucking shit." Bucky scowled, deepening the look into a full on glare when Steve reached for his ponytail. "Do not touch that, it took forever to-"  
  
So of course Steve pulled his hair loose - _of course_ \- because he has been and always will be a little shit. But it was sweet, affectionate even, the way he tangled his fingers in the wavy strands of Bucky's hair. He tugged gently, bringing his mouth to Bucky's jaw. "I still wanna see the thong."  
  
Bucky whimpered, a terribly pitiful sound coming from someone like him, and fumbled with his pants. See, this was one of those times where having two arms would be really fucking nice. Thanks, Stark. "A little help?"  
  
Panic flashed in Steve's eyes but just for a second. "Yeah," he said, running his hands down Bucky's chest to his waist. "Sure, I got this."  
  
The last fucking thing Bucky expected was for Steve to drop to his knees. The sight of that alone was enough to forgive that oblivious idiot for not noticing that he'd been in freaking love with him since the first time he punched him in the shoulder and called him a jerk.

 

* * *

  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, and you call _my_ version of the story sappy?" Steve interrupts. "You're in love with me?"  
  
Sam is cringing. "Can I go? I think I can figure it out from here."  
  
"Yes, I," T'Challa says, "I fear this is about to turn pornographic."  
  
Steve winks. "It does, I did something I saw in a porno once," he says, like he's fucking _proud_ .  
  
"Shut up, everybody," Bucky snaps. "We're almost to the climax...errr. Climaxes."

 

* * *

  
  
Steve unbuckled Bucky's pants, immediately blushing when he caught a glimpse of the red feathers. At this point Bucky was basically frozen to the marble, his hand holding onto the side for dear life. He was about to ask if he liked the underwear when Steve tugged his pants down further and nuzzled his face against the velvet, his hot breath rendering Bucky speechless.  
  
Words? Maybe later. Bucky watched, unable to control the twitches and jerks of his dick every time Steve's cheek or nose, fuck, his _lips_ \- he mouthed over the bulge in the fabric, squeezing the outline of Bucky's cock with his lips. That tiny patch of velvet felt soaked and sticky. All Bucky wanted then was to get back home, get naked, and get the fuck inside Steve's mouth.  
  
"Buck?" Steve pulled away, palming his own erection through his pants.  
  
"Hnng?" Words, yeah, still didn't have those.  
  
"Maybe we should go back to the house."  
  
"Uh huh." Bucky nodded, making a grabby hand motion at Steve. He could find a word or two now that Steve's mouth wasn't nearly as close to his dick. "After."  
  
"After?" Steve grinned, standing up. He slid his hand inside Bucky's thong, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and squeezing. "After what?"  
  
Bucky moaned, "Oh my God," and yanked at Steve's belt. "What the fuck, I thought _I_ was seducing _you_ ?"  
  
"Sorry, I kinda just take charge of everything," Steve laughed. He unzipped his pants and helped guide Bucky's hand inside.  
  
This was _a lot_ . Bucky's brain couldn't figure out whether to focus on his hand on Steve's dick, Steve's hand on his dick, or the cruel squeeze of his thong's elastic against his balls that surprisingly felt really good. "That's good," he mumbled, "keep doing the in charge thing."  
  
Steve's eyebrows shot up. "Okay."  
  
Then he snaked a hand in Bucky's hair, tugging as he pulled him in for a rough kiss. That was it, Bucky was done, moaning into Steve's mouth as he made a mess of his underwear and pants. He really fucking hoped T'Challa didn't want this suit back.  
  
"Whoa," Bucky sighed, grinning lazily. "Your turn."  
  
"Still okay with the in charge thing?" Steve's voice was a little rougher, shakier than just a few minutes before. Bucky nodded because hell yeah, no, _fuck_ yeah he was okay with it.  
  
Gently Steve pulled Bucky's hand off of him, using it to clean up the mess left on Bucky's skin and underwear. He watched Steve curiously, but it clicked when he felt a cock in his hand again. _Oh_ . Okay. "You're kinda filthy, Rogers," Bucky teased, stroking Steve much faster than before.  
  
"Yeah," Steve stuttered. "I - yeah."  
  
"No, seriously, I'm impressed, can't wait to find out how much of a freak you really are." Considering that he'd been deprived of emotion, affection, and touch for years, Bucky'd pretty much be down for anything.  
  
Steve just, apparently, performed really well under pressure because he kissed Bucky and whispered, "Hurry up and make me come so we can go find out."  
  
Like, what the fuck, was Steve _always_ like this? So Bucky kissed Steve's jaw, bit his neck, rutted against him until he cried out, spilling all over his hand. "Bucky, I-"

 

* * *

  
  
Three pairs of brown eyes stare at Bucky.  
  
"What?" He asks. "That's where you guys walked in."  
  
"I don't want the suit back," T'Challa says.  
  
Sam turns his stare to Steve. "Uh huh."  
  
Steve shoves his hands in his pockets, shrugging awkwardly. "What?"  
  
"You were about to say I-"  
  
"No, I wasn't!"  
  
Bucky gasps dramatically. "You were about to say I love you! See, you are a fucking sap."  
  
Zuri frowns as Bucky and Steve argue about whether they love each other or not. "I can't believe I just listened to this. Why are Americans like this?"  
  
"I don't know." T'Challa laughs. "But think. They have been through so much. Together. Apart. It's almost sweet."  
  
"Hmm." Zuri tilts his head, allowing a tiny smile to quirk his lips. "Almost."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://anthonystan.tumblr.com) way too fucking much, come yell at me about pretty boys or your appreciation for elf culture.


End file.
